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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Sci-fi · #1620131
A young thief must escape from the law only to return to an even more dangerous hideout
Dark shadows. They hid her as she knelt to check her backpack. A slender shadow this. But it was enough, enough to hide a slender girl wearing naught but black.

Is the List complete? she thought. Pulling it out she set it on the floor between her knees. Though its screen, as all screens were, was backlit she still slid it into the large pool of light beside her. Young as she was, her Personally Accessible Computer, or PAC, could only be used in the light. She would have gotten a better one but who would have believed that an eleven-year-old looking at anything more was not planning on stealing it? No, one proper to her age group was all that she could have had when she pocketed it.

Using the PAC’s small keyboard she quickly inserted her password. The List popped up at once. Her finger skimmed across the screen, crossing out an item in the middle. Scrolling down she found the other items to all be crossed out as well. She hit the “Off” button and stood. Stowing the device she checked her backpack. Once satisfied she raised her foot and stepped out of the shadow. Her foot came down on the pool of light emanating from beyond the tall glass windows and at once the claxons began to sound.

The girl groaned. She thought she had another minute, thirty seconds at the least. The first time she had used it, the ten minute bio-degradable gel she had dripped on the alarm circuits when she had entered must not last as long as the manufacturer advertised. She knew this because she had set her sub-dermal watch to beep at her when thirty seconds remained and it had not yet beeped. A glance down at it and she nearly jumped when it sounded. Forty seconds off, she thought. Great.

A light appeared to her left and the beam of a flashlight swept around the room. Two guards stepped up to the glass doors, their hands raised to their eyes as they pressed their faces to the glass. Back in the dark corner the girl kept deathly still. She could not believe she had made such a big mistake. What will they think of me now? Then the door opened and the guards stepped inside. Oh crumb, she thought, her own little word she used when something bad happened.

Crouching, she watched them. Dressed in navy blue guardsmen’s suits each one brandished a night stick that, though looking old fashioned, the girl knew could deliver painful energy blasts. Turning away from each other they began to search the room.

There was no way she could escape. Not now. Not with them between her and the open air duct she came in by. Plus, they were bigger. Much bigger. Her only hope was to wait for the guard on the opposite end of the room to reach the furthest point away from her. Then she could try.

Five seconds and he was there. Time to act, she sucked in a deep breath. Springing forward, she startled the closest guard, his jump at her appearance her saving grace. She squeezed between him and the big, boss type desk at this end of the room. Putting her uncovered head down she ran as fast as she could toward the air duct. The other must have raised his weapon at her for the first man shouted, “No! Do you want to hit the boss’s stuff?”

Again their hesitation saved her. Skidding to a halt she dove, head first, into the air duct. Large enough for her, she hoped it would be too small for her pursuers. Scrambling quickly along its slick surface she soon reached the outlet that had been her entrance. A punch and the exterior grate was open. Behind her she heard the muffled sounds of someone much bigger than her crawling along. Crumb! Sliding herself around so her feet stuck out the opening she lowered herself slowly until she hung only by her fingers. She let go.

The fall was only a story and a half but it felt like more. Landing in a full trash bin the girl coughed and kicked and pushed her way over the edge. Hitting the dank blacktop she rolled and came up. A shout and she glanced up. There were the guardsmen, one poking his head out the open grate while his partner hung below him. The girl gasped and started to run.

No sooner had she reached the street than the girl began to look for crowds. There were some, two blocks away in the direction of the river. Making for them she remembered that there had been a concert tonight, one she had wanted to go to. But, forced to work instead, she had pushed the thought of it from her mind. Besides, she could always watch it in the GridPrime back home. Reaching the crowd she pushed her way through the men and women, past the boys and girls until she was well inside.

Kneeling down she opened her backpack and pulled out her jacket. A light green windbreaker she threw it on before zipping up her backpack. She stood, drew on the backpack, and zipped up her coat. A family passed her by, a husband and wife with three children. What was one more?

Walking close but not with the family the girl followed them all the way to the light-rail station. Parting from them she brushed a short lock of brown hair behind her ear and looked behind her. There was no sign of the guards. Yet she was sure they had followed her. At least for a while. Had she really lost them? No matter, she never felt safe until she was back home.

A car passed by, its anti-gravitation drive whirling blue beneath it. Watching it, the girl crossed the now empty street. Half a block down there was an alley. In the alley was a door. And, behind the door, was home. Nearly there, she thought.

Approaching alley’s black hole she began to take off her gloves. Leather, they had come from a mall store. Which, she could not remember.

Just as she was turning the corner the girl saw, out of the corner of her eye, a sudden and strange light. Like an old computer screen that has bars of light running from top to bottom it was. She turned towards it and screamed. It was them!

Breaking into a run the girl sprinted for home. They’ve gone high tech! she thought. She had not expected it. Walking behind her the whole way they had engaged the small, personal cloaking devices now available to the rich of the rich. If they had them then she must have stolen something incredibly valuable. The thought scared her.

When she reached the door, a shadow within shadows, she pressed her hand to the keypad beside it. A blue light appeared on the surface of the device. Scanning. She wished it would hurry up. Not daring to look she could nevertheless hear their pounding feet as they neared. “Come on, come on,” she mumbled. There was a click and the door opened. Leaping forward, she dove inside and slammed the heavy thing behind her.

Turning, she sat against the door. Her heart pounded in her chest. Forcing herself to calm down, the girl breathed deep relief.

She could see nothing in the dark. An old building, it had been deemed unsafe and condemned years ago, perhaps even before her birth. But this was not home. Not truly. This was just the front room, the place where guests were greeted and dealt with. No, her true home lay ahead and through another door.

Not hearing anything the girl climbed to her feet. Starting forward towards the inner door she heard a click. Spinning around, she watched in terror as the front door began to swing inwards. “No!” she screamed. Slamming her body against the door she dug her toes into the dirt floor.

How were they doing this? she asked herself. The door was supposed to be hidden, melding into the wall as soon as it was closed. Even its keypad disappeared when it did. She only knew where they were because this was her home. “No!” she said again.

All at once they were inside. Falling backwards, the girl watched with wide, fearful eyes as green energy burst over her head. She screamed and covered her head with her hands. Shutting her eyes she pulled her knees up to her chest and lay there, unmoving, on the ground. There were more shots fired and more screams. Soon it was over.

The door shut, an audible, ominous sound. Then there was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. “Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” said a boy. “Are you alright?”

She rose, shaking. “Y-yeah,” she said. “Fine. I’m fine.” She had never been shot at before. Nor had she ever seen her home broken into. It frightened her. Really frightened her.

Mother came up, her face red with anger. Not her real mother, the woman just called herself that as she looked after not just Darcy but also a hundred other children. Raising her hand she brought it down, hard, on Darcy’s cheek. “Don’t you ever do that again,” she said.

“I’m s-sorry—”

“Sorry don’t cut it girl. Look ‘round you. Two of them. Two of them.”

“They had cloakers,” Darcy interjected quickly.

“Don’t care. Now, come. We’ll have to think of proper punishment for you.”

Wanting to say something more, Darcy nevertheless bit back the words, bowed her head, and followed dutifully. Careful to pick up her feet as she stepped over the dead guardsmen she crossed the room to where Mother held open the inner door. Going in, she stepped to the side to let the others pass. Four of them came through, two each dragging one of the guards. She wanted to cry as the faces passed her. No one had ever died because of her before. She was a thief, not a murderer. What they would do with them, here, she did not know. But it can’t be good, she thought.

Mother came last, letting the steel door slam shut behind her. She was five feet away when Darcy called out. Turning, Mother looked at her and she said, “Mother, I…I want out. I don’t want to be a thief anymore.” More than sixty children turned to look at her and Darcy hung her head in shame. “I don’t want anyone else to die,” she said.

If Mother had been angry before she had now become livid. “Why, you ungrateful little…” she said. Stalking forward she reached out a hand. “Give me that backpack.”

Not able to look at her, Darcy shrugged the pack off her shoulders and handed it to Mother. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

“You’ll do what I tell you girl.” Darcy opened her mouth to argue but two boys a few years older than she stepped up beside her. Their crossed arms and glaring looks they gave her made it quite clear that they were not there to help. “Now come, girl,” said Mother. Turning her back she walked across the room to where a long brown cloth hung across an opening. Pulling it back Mother said, “Come Darcy. You and I are going to have a little chat.”

Looking at Mother, a cruel smile spread across her lips, Darcy could only imagine what lay in store for her. That was Mother’s room in there. Only the worst children ever saw it. However, everyone heard what went on. Screams and cries, everyone left it crying and shaking and covered in raw red bruises as big around as apples.

Seeing the other children staring at her Darcy had no choice but to clench her fists and proceed towards Mother’s room. I’ll show them. I’ll show them all. Not a cry baby, me, she thought. Steeling herself as best she could, Darcy raised her chin and walked proudly forward and into Mother’s room.

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